


Camping and Conversation

by mourninghope (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Nonbinary Malia Tate, Other, pre-polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mourninghope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia and Malia invite Parrish camping.  Awkward and necessary conversations occur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camping and Conversation

Lydia slid and skipped down the rocky path, the smooth pebbles and sharp shale massaging and biting at her naked feet. She curled her toes over the stones and pressed her heels into the shiny, razor sharp shale. Laughing, she tossed her sun-kissed curls over her shoulders and flung out her arms as if trying to embrace the whole of the hidden cove. 

 

Malia followed more slowly, planting their booted feet carefully, their eyes never wavering from Lydia’s silhouette. A wry smile tugged at their lips as they hitched their backpack higher. It was good to hear Lydia, who had been silent for so long laugh as if her world was finally right again. 

 

Parrish, stalwart and steadfast walked at their side, his long, capable fingers clutching the straps of his backpack; his eyes were also trained on the fiery center of their world. His smile was tender and new as he stopped beside Malia, his upper arm pressing briefly against their shoulder before he shifted his weight, just slightly, away.

 

“There’s a clearing at the top of the path. We can make camp there.” Parrish reached for the loop at the top of Malia’s backpack. “Here, give me that. I’ll set up our tents and see about getting some wood.” 

 

Malia shrugged out of their pack. “You can set up the tents but we can help with the wood. If you want,” they added, biting their lower lip as Parrish huffed and turned away, his ears flushing pink. 

 

“Be nice,” Lydia whispered, brushing her lips over the shell of Malia’s ear as Parrish hurried back up the rocky incline. 

 

“I thought I was.” Malia shrugged and slipped their arm around Lydia’s waist. They cupped the sweet swell of Lydia’s hip, thumb rubbing slow circles over the smooth cotton sundress she wore. 

 

“Okay, so be more my kind of nice, than yours, sweetie. It’s not like we told him why we invited him to come camping with us.” Lydia popped Malia on their backside and pulled away, sashaying up the hill with far more grace then she had come down. 

\---

Malia dropped an armful of wood near the fire, then planted their hands on their hips, surveying the campsite. Two tents place carefully at opposite sides of the clearing, about as far apart as Parrish could get them without pitching one of them inside the tree line. 

 

Huffing, they crouched and began carefully laying wood over the tinder in the perfect, stone-ringed patch of dirt Parrish had cleared. “Yo, Parrish! I need fire to start the fire.” 

 

“Didn’t you bring a lighter,” he asked, stepping out of his tent as he pulled a hoody over his head. 

 

“Uh. No.” Frowning, Malia stood and brushed their hands against their thighs. “If you’ll recall, the last time I was in the woods for an extended period of time, I had four feet and fur. Fire wasn’t exactly a thing I needed.” 

 

Parrish sighed, rubbing a hand against the back of his head. “Point. Sorry. Um…” He paused, digging through his pocket. He pulled free an old, tarnished Zippo and tossed it to Malia. “Here you go.” 

 

“Thank you!” They caught it nimbly and lit the dry leaves and bits of paper, crouching low to coax the flames higher with their breath. 

 

“Where’s Lydia,” Parrish asked, folding himself onto one of the larger logs he’d hauled near the fire pit. 

 

“Taking a nap. She still gets kind of tired.” Malia stood, stretching until their back popped. 

 

“Huh. She’s doing okay though? I haven’t seen much of her since we got her out of Eichen House.” 

 

“She’s doing better. Not good. Not yet.” Malia glanced at the log opposite Parrish, then drifted around the fire to sit beside him, slim thigh pressed against muscular one. 

 

He swallowed and hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his chin tucked tight to his chest. Malia mimicked his posture but cradled their cheek in one palm, regarding him quietly. “Are you okay?” 

 

“I… I don’t know.” Parrish exhaled roughly. “Before… Before everything, I thought that she and I,” he paused and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I was falling in love with her and I thought, maybe that she… Then, we get her out and she won’t see me. Not at first. And then you’re there. You’re always there and you’re always watching me and I feel like I lost her.” 

 

Malia hums thoughtfully and presses their shoulder against his, brows knitting at the barely there tremors shaking his big frame. “You didn’t lose her.”

 

“No? Then why is she sleeping in your tent and not mine? Why do you get to touch her? You’re always touching her and I can’t get within five feet of her without her going stiff and rigid.” 

 

Malia puffed up their cheeks and huffed out a breath, pressing more tightly against Parrish’s side. “She’s still processing what happened. What she is. What you are. What you are in relation to what she is. I know you want to touch her. I know because it’s all she can do to keep from touching you. That scares her. 

 

Me? I’m safe. There’s no compulsion. No loss of control. With me, she doesn’t feel like her choices are being taken away. With you… Well.” Malia shrugged then busked their nose against Parrish’s temple. 

 

He twitched but held himself rigid as Malia nosed along his hair line and behind his hear, their breath warm and tickling. 

 

“So here’s the thing, Parrish. I know that I confuse you. I know that my relationship with Lydia is hurting you and we don’t want that. Neither of us want you hurting. Also, it fucking sucks that I confuse you.” 

 

“You don’t... Okay, yeah. You confuse me. You were with Stiles and then you weren’t. You bounce between being soft and… and feminine, like Lydia to… well…” He gestured roughly and Malia snorted, sucking the lobe of Parrish’s ear between their lips, tongue tracing the delicate, over-heated skin until the man shuddered. 

 

Pulling away, Malia slid off the log and pushed their way between Parrish’s knees, ducking down until the Deputy was forced to either close his eyes or meet their intense gaze. “Somedays I feel ‘soft and feminine’. Somedays, like today, I don’t. In fact, today, I feel pretty much in between. Somedays, I bind my breasts so tightly that my curves disappear. On those days, I put on a pair of boxer briefs and I tuck a silicone cock between my thighs.” 

 

Parrish swallowed hard, staring wide-eyed at Malia, faces so close that Parrish could feel their breath against his lips. “Okay. So… What? What is this?” 

 

Malia bumped their nose against Parrish’s and slid away, resuming their seat on the log. “This is nothing. Not if you’re scared or freaked out. But,” Malia said slowly, “it could be something pretty amazing. Like I said, Lydia still cares about you. A lot, but right now she needs a buffer and since I love her as much as you do, I guess I’m that buffer. If you want.” 

 

Parish slid off the log to sprawl in the dirt, his head resting against the rough wood, his shoulder notching beneath Malia’s knee. “Things were a lot easier before,” he mumbled. 

\---

The tension had bled away by the time Lydia woke and shuffled out to join them by the fire, a thick fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The stars were bright and huge, high above the little clearing and the lake shushed against the rocky shore. 

 

Parrish offered Lydia a smile and a flaming marshmallow. Laughing, she plucked the long twig from his hand; her breath caught in her throat as their fingers touched. She retreated to the log on the opposite side of the fire and settled beside Malia, letting the fleece fall from her shoulders. 

 

“Sleep well,” Parrish asked, idly stroking his fingers against his knee. 

 

“Yeah.” Lydia nodded and began to pick at the marshmallow crisp. “Sorry about that. I still get really tired.” 

 

“I understand. When I got out of the hospital, after I got back to the states, I slept a lot too. Normal hospitals are tiring, never mind what you went through.” 

 

Lydia nodded and leaned into Malia, resting her head on their shoulder. “So what did you two do while I was sleeping?” 

 

“We talked,” they said, laughing as their words overlapped. 

 

Malia cleared their throat. “We talked a bit. About things.” 

 

“And stuff,” Parrish added, flushing as he rubbed the edge of his earlobe.

 

“I see. So does that mean we can take down your little one man pop tent,” Lydia asked, gazing across the fire at Parrish through lowered lashes. 

 

“Not tonight but…” Parrish trailed off, tongue flicking thoughtfully over his lower lip. “Maybe tomorrow.” 

 

Malia grinned sharply and turned their head to hide their smile against Lydia’s flame-kissed hair.


End file.
